Amorra - Remember this night, Avatar
by Doll Diabolique
Summary: Warning. This is a detailed rape fanfiction. I do not own the characters. Please don't read if you're not into this kind of smut. If you are, enjoy. Amon / Korra.


( This takes place during the Equalist "I will destroy you" ambush. If there's any horrid grammatical or spelling errors, please let me know. If enough people like this story, I have an idea for a second chapter. )

"Leave us."

All at once, the Equalists released her ropes. Her eyes snapped open and out of pure, vicious rebellion, her arms swung forward, bursting with fire. But in the darkness, his wide frame dashed closer and countered her assault. Two jabs to her shoulder - small, quick and stinging – and her arms fell weakly to her sides. Her legs flexed, ready to kick Earth into her offender, but two more jabs to her thighs left her muscles slack. Palms grabbed her ankles and yanked her fro until her back slapped against the slate. Before she could cry out, a heavy hand muffled her lips. It was so dark. It was happening so fast. As she blinked away the adrenaline and the world returned to lucidity, she heard the Equalists' footsteps marching calmly away. So orderly. So obedient.

As her blood cooled, her rapid breath easing, her senses came back to her in whispers. Suddenly she was very aware of Amon's weight, his nearness, and the masculine frame of his figure pressed between her legs. His hand against her mouth, his fingertips gripped around her jaw, the smell of leather from his gloves. The cold, cold tile beneath her. And her eyes opened – she hadn't known they were shut – his mask was there, watching her.

That icy fear returned; the same helpless abandon she felt when Amon's hand had reached for her forehead. But if he wasn't going to take her bending …? Her heart fluttered, manic. Was he going to try to kill her? Surely he was aware of the Avatar state? Spirits, was he going to incite the Avatar state on purpose to end the Avatar string once and for all?

Almost tenderly, his thumb stroked her cheek. Amon watched her eyes as her juvenile mind raced with thoughts, each string of possible horrors making those blues wider and wider. Soon they were glistening, and all the while he watched. How beautiful that aquamarine color was against the olive tint to her skin. The Avatar was usually so fierce. He liked this damsel look to her.

"Do not fear for your life, Avatar. I told you I will not have a martyr, as a symbol or an activist."

Then what did he want?

Amon recognized the fear of death. He felt he had to repeat this to cease her thoughts of murder. He was almost offended and perhaps even a little irritated. This Equalist movement was a revolution, a cleansing of the impure. Murder was beneath him. If anyone suspected him of these intentions, he found this downright insulting.

"But I will break you."

He hadn't stopped staring at her. Strength began to flow back into her limbs, but she could feel that her bending was still useless. Glaring her defiance, she began to wriggle beneath him while trying to wrestle his hand from her face. Without breaking a sweat, Amon's free hand unlatched his belt and whipped it from the loops with a _whoosh_. He removed his hand from her face, caught both her wrists and belted them behind her back. She couldn't put up much of a fight – not yet anyway. But Korra's mouth was free, and she didn't waste the opportunity.

"Get off me! Let me go! Tarlokk's task force-"

"I know," he interrupted, while removing his gloves. "I'm not worried. This shouldn't take long, but we will see."

Those beautiful doe eyes again. "Wh-what are you going to do? Don't be a coward. Fight me one on one." But her attempt was feeble. Her voice had wavered and the terror was tenfold more apparent than she would have liked.

He didn't answer her. Instead, he leaned forward and propped himself up on one hand to angle himself more comfortably. Finally he looked away and to a new target – somewhere below. His other hand, now bare, fiddled with the hem of her top until he was able to slide his fingers underneath. Compared to this cutting air and the chilly ground beneath her, his flesh was surprisingly warm.

Her virgin mind allowed naivety. She had no idea what he was doing, even as he pushed up her shirt and exposed her breastwrap. Was he trying to expose her Chakra energy sources? Still, Korra was a grown girl, and she couldn't stop her awareness from putting odd things into priority – the feel of a man nearly on top of her, for one, and the position of him between her open legs. The sensation of his gentle firmness. The sound of his breathing in this deathly silence, so near and yet detached. Behind that mask, every breath sounded louder, heavier, huskier.

And when Amon gripped her wrap and yanked it down, Korra gasped as her breasts bounced outward, nipples tightening immediately in the cold. Her hands, belted behind her, naturally propped her chest outward and complimented her assets nicely. As terror rushed through her, she began to breath heavier as well, causing her breasts to bounce in natural tune with her rapid pants.

"Wh-what-" She already sounded breathless. She didn't know what was happening. Amon's palm slid up to her neck, down between her breasts, and to her stomach, appreciating her athletic figure. There was something very arousing about a defenseless, quivering girl at his mercy. Amon couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Stilled by a new terror, Korra clenched her eyes shut in an effort to will the moment away. But he wasn't finished.

Korra could feel him tugging at the strings of the fur-wrap around her waist. It fell loose to the ground. Then he, in one brisk and fluid motion, leaned back and yanked her pants all the way down to her ankles. _Fast_. By the time she cried out, he was already between her legs again, ankles knotted together in a way that wrapped her legs around him. He must've enjoyed this, because he exhaled a pleased sigh.

"Amon, please," she begged, finally understanding. She was old enough to know what this was. But she was so incredibly pure. She did not masturbate. She wondered, but she did not fantasize. As an Avatar, as busy as she was, her time and thoughts were so muddled with other responsibilities that sex and pleasure were beyond her in regards to leisure activities. And now, here she was. Blushing all over, shy and exposed. Breasts and lips naked, vulnerable to the enemy when she herself had so little time to explore her own body.

"How admirable you are, Avatar." But while her taut body was, in fact, perfect, he was not referring to her figure. It was she. Even now, as distressed and helpless as Korra was, Amon could see her face flexed in rebellion. It almost pained him to do this to such a wild, passionate foe – but it was strategy. He would make her recognize her own vulnerability. He would make her aware of his strength, of his power over her. The Avatar was stupidly fearless, but it made her his biggest threat. He would tame her tonight – _now_.

Humiliated, Korra felt warm fingers playing between her legs. Amon wasn't surprised to see her trimmed – athletes don't like hair causing sweat and discomfort in unsavory places. He didn't insert yet. He parted her lips, feeling her, exploring her, until he saw her clitoris, and began to pressure it in little circles. A virgin body experiencing this pleasure for the first time was a slave; though she did not want it, her hips arched upward, toward his hand, wanting more. She felt this newness pulsing between her thighs, a deep, deep aching, causing her muscles to tighten.

Frustrated and ashamed, she released quiet whimpers, and inwardly prayed that the taskforce would not come. She prided herself in her strength – she would surely fall apart if anyone saw her like this.

As patient as lakes and mountains, Amon stroked down to her folds and slowly inserted two fingers. Inside that tight little opening, she felt slick and warm. He could hardly wait to have her engulf him. Korra cried out and pressed her thighs around him in an extinct to close her legs. But he did not stop, even as she moaned her protests. In and out, slowly, watching and feeling for fluids – he would not enter a dry crevice, even to a girl he planned to rape.

Korra, feeling pulse after pulse of unwanted pleasure, finally began to cry – in little tears and gentle weepings. She was confused, powerless and humiliated. Her body _yearned_ for release, and against her hatred and terror, she could not help the physiological response of arousal. Her mind inwardly clouded in an attempt to salvage her sanity. Inside of her, between her legs. Pleasures, between her legs. Touching her, in and out of her, between her legs. Her body was taunting her.

He would not allow her to orgasm. Not yet. Once he saw her lubricate with milky fluids, he tugged down his pants, already sagging from the removal of his belt. After he stopped, Korra sensed him shifting around. Knowing what was coming, she started to shake. Her eyes did not open. Amon's weight moved again, forward, until his whole chest was pressed onto her.

Now she could feel his rapid heartbeat, beating so strongly through his chest that it pounded onto her breasts. One arm slid under her head and nestled there like a pillow – he needed it there for support. His other arm: She could feel him situating himself below. Korra could smell him too – cinnamon, warm fabric, and some kind of spicy cologne.

"Please," she whimpered, playing to his humanity, hoping he'd change his mind.

"Be silent, Avatar, while you can. You won't be in a moment."

And oh, how he planned to make her scream.

Amon pushed his chin against his shoulder and jerked down to slide his mask off. Korra felt the metal fall onto her collarbone, bounce off, and hit the ground with a clank. The tip of something hard and warm was circling her entrance, wetting with her fluids. His breath was hot on her neck – he began to kiss her there, suck and bite. A habit of his with lovers, though Korra was not his lover tonight, but a victim.

Her lips quivered and tears continued to fall. Then Amon finally began to push into her, ever so slowly, easing his girth in. Korra felt him filling her, stretching her, hurting her. She cried out in fast-paced whines of effort, naturally trying to work with him to accommodate his size so that the pain was lessened. He groaned as his erection forced through the tightness of her opening. She was, after all, a virgin sixteen-year-old girl – and _he_ was a full-grown Water Tribe man, of an ethnicity known for packing a lot of meat at the waist. Amon had known this initial entering would be hard for Korra.

He rocked his hips carefully, pulling out slow and easing in slow. Body trembling with stabs of pain, Korra's hips tilted in synchrony with him. She sobbed each time she felt him penetrate her all the way in. Instinct told her to compromise – to struggle would only hurt her worse. She wanted to make this as easy as possible so that it could end. But as she began to swallow him with more ease at every movement, new sensations were coming. Little vibrations, whispering of bliss.

"Good girl," he growled, hot breath sweeping past her ear. His naturally deep and grainy voice sounded different without the mask.

Her toes and lips began to quiver with the oncoming tingles of ecstasy. Her sobs softened into little moans. She was wet now, open, ready to fully receive him. Amon wasted no time. He wrapped one arm under her hips, lifted her to a higher position that'd deepen his intrusion, and he began to pile drive her. Korra's eyes snapped open and her parted lips broke into a gaping cry. He slammed her so hard that her body jerked up and down with his movements. Every muscle in her body flexed, and her legs tightened around his waist, aching to close. Forced stabs of violent pleasure flooded her every nerve, starting between her legs and then dominating her body in sweeping pulses. Amon grunted, pulled his arm out from under her head and leaned back to hold her hips.

Amon's face was a blur of loose black hair and profound blue eyes. Korra wasn't even sure if she could see scar tissue, but she _did_ see the unmistakable outline of a genuinely handsome face. As he sunk his fingertips into her hips and held her still, Korra's eyes forcefully shut as he rammed her faster. Not even sure if she was crying or moaning, high-pitched whines sounded with every thrust that hit her inner wall. The both of them began to sweat, and the sound of sex cries and wet flesh smacking together echoed through the atrium.

Overcome with arousal, he wanted more from the Avatar. Amon wanted to dominate her, to consume her, to _possess_ her. It was almost an obsessive need. He wanted this to last forever. Shaking with desire, he dropped on top of her, wrapped his arms around Korra in a bear hug, and continued to nail her. He was a revolutionary leader, so he'd claimed many a woman – but something about Korra was incomparably satisfying. It was the best sex he'd ever experienced, forcing pleasure into a young, virgin and vivacious foe.

His body was heavy and warm as it enclosed around her. The movement of his hips, pounding between her legs, was making her sore. Amon's endless stamina and ability to withhold orgasm was not a friend to a rape victim. It felt like it was never going to end, and Korra's forced cries were more and more breathless – yet still they came; she had no control. The smell of his cologne filled her nose; the fabric of his jacket rubbed against her breasts; her pulled-back hair was getting loose and messy; sometimes he rammed her so hard that her teeth clacked together.

Amon began to slow. Panting and pained, Korra's muscles took the opportunity to relax. She wondered if he was finished. But no, he was just catching his breath. Her eyelids pried open, daring to peek at his face. Trembling all over, sweaty and wet, Korra struggled to get a look at him - his hood had fallen off – but it was too dark and her vision was still blurry. All she could see was that black hair. Blue eyes glanced up at her, checking on her. She was so exhausted that she was dizzy.

"Almost finished, Avatar," he panted.

His arms wrapped under her knees. Amon pushed forward, holding her legs, almost folding her in half, and entered her once more. She didn't have time to moan in protest, because this time, he fucked her deep. Something about the angle changed the way she cried, changed the way it all felt. Her moans were louder, sharper. Her nails dug into the tile beneath her back. Tears burst from her eyes, and something hot and powerful began to build and build. Where his erection penetrated, where it hit inside her, a pressure grew.

She felt it with every thrust. Ram, more build, Ram, more build. Her own voice and heartbeat was deafening in her ears. "_Oh! Oh! Oh!_" Sweat was dripping down Amon's forehead, and he watched the Avatar's screaming moans and bouncing breasts with fixated elation. He could see it in her curling body, could feel it in her tightening muscles, could sense it in her; that she was close to release.

And in a final spasming burst, Korra's sharp cries broke into one, long scream. Arched back, wide open mouth, shining with sweat. Her whole body shuddered, and Amon held her legs as they quaked at his sides. Between her thighs, he felt her damp walls flex and convulse around his erection as the nerve bundles sent floods of rapture through her body. At that moment, he couldn't stop himself from spilling inside her, and they orgasmed together. He shuddered with her, released her legs, and dropped on top of her, exhausted. It was over.

Together, they lie there and panted. Amon was catching his breath, and Korra could feel every exhale on her neck where his head was nestled. The heat of sex subsided, and soon Korra felt the draft of cold at her naked sides. Amon was still inside her. Suddenly she was very aware of how Amon had dominated her and manipulated her body like clay – and she burst into a fit of sobs and tears, crying right into his shoulder. On top of her, he took a deep breath. He had expected this. Maybe out of boredom, maybe out of some morbid affection for his broken enemy, he took her chin in his hand and kissed her tragic lips.

"Open your eyes. Look at me."

She didn't listen, and instead continued to whimper. Damned stubborn girl.

"Open your damn eyes, Avatar, lest I take you again."

So she did. She opened her eyes, and there was his face, too close for the features to be identified – but a pair of frosty blue eyes were staring right into her soul. Those eyes stripped her down to her core, making her feel a thousand times more naked.

"Remember this night," he said, deep voice sweeping over her face. "Remember how easily I handled you. When you're off frolicking with those two brothers, remember that _I_ took you first. I made you mine."

Ever the gentlemen, Amon gently pulled her wrap over her breasts while never averting his gaze. He took the hem of her top and pulled it down to her waist. With a last kiss, mockingly tender, he shifted his palm over her eyes while the other hand picked up his mask and fastened it onto his face. At last, he pulled out of her, situated himself, and yanked up his slacks. He had to maneuver her ankles over his head to pull her pants and under garments over her hips. So ironically gentleman. All the while, Korra lied there and allowed him to dress her. She was just too tired, inwardly and out.

Before leaving, Amon hugged around her sides to reach her belted wrists. His pants were loose-fitting. He would allow her the privilege of keeping the belt as a reminder of their encounter, but he very much needed it. So he took it, stood, fitted it through the loops, and watched her as she rolled onto her side and hugged herself against the cold.

"Remember me, Avatar. Dream of me if you must."

And like a phantom, he vanished into the night.

Shivering, frightened and alone, Korra stared into the emptiness. And despite her ravaged body, her shame, and the blatant mockery that she lost this fight – her heart still beat the same as before.

_ I may be afraid, you may have reduced me to nothing tonight,_ she thought, _but I am not broken_. Her brows narrowed, and her heart kept going.

_And I will still defeat you. I will not fail._


End file.
